I Could Tell You, But You Wouldn't Like It
by Mrs. Frank Hardy
Summary: "Charlotte Goode walked along the perimeter of the courtyard, thinking about her encounter with Joel. Sure, it seemed like a little thing, but Charlotte still felt guilty. Joel was Eliza's crush, and for her to have that conversation with him felt like breaking the Best Friend laws. As she was thinking about this, she saw a black figure dart into one of the secret tunnels..."


**I Could Tell You, But You Wouldn't Like It****  
**

_**Dedicated to Audrey, who was an amazing friend even when I was threatening to take a picture of her sleeping. **_

Charlotte Goode walked along the perimeter of the courtyard, thinking about her encounter with Joel. Sure, it seemed like a little thing, but Charlotte still felt guilty. Joel was Eliza's crush, and for her to have that conversation with him felt like breaking the Best Friend laws.

As she was thinking about this, she saw a black figure dart into one of the secret tunnels her mother, the Headmistress of the Gallagher Academy of Exceptional Youth, had shown her on her visits here during the summer months.

Now, as a sophomore at the Gallagher Academy, Charlotte had seen her fair share of weird things. After all, the Gallagher Academy wasn't any other boarding school; it was the kind of school you took your children to learn how to kill a man fifteen ways with an uncooked spaghetti noodle. The Gallagher Academy was created by Gillian Gallagher, a spy in her own right, and ever since then spies all over the world, and even government figures, had been sending their children here to learn how to defend themselves and even go on missions for the government.

So, as her curiosity and growing concern got the better of her, she made her way to where the figure had disappeared.  
As she walked along the length of the cobblestone hallway, she ran her hands along the wall, trying to find the next exterior corridor.

She thought she was almost there when she stopped suddenly. The reason behind her hurried stop, of course, was the fabric that her hands had felt. Quickly, she moved her hand back and she gulped. It was the unmistakable feel of 50% polyester and 20% cotton, her skilled mind knew that; it was the thing inside of that that made her breath catch.

In the dim light of the nearly pitch black hallway, she could barely make out the shape of a face as she looked up. Its jaw-line was defined, and she knew it was a man. Quickly, almost as if her brain had finally caught up, she brought her hand back and tried to strike the dark figure.

But he caught her hand in one of his own gloved hands.  
"Now, now," he said, "It's not the time to get violent, little one." His Russian accent was evident in his voice, but Charlotte knew that he could very well be faking; she was able to fake one as good as it.  
Then she thought about what he had said and he narrowed her eyes at the figure, not caring if he couldn't see her. Little one? She was almost sixteen, and was 5'8" already. How in the world could that be classified as _little_?  
_I'll show you little,_ she thought as she used her other hand and aimed her fist at where his face was barely visible.  
To her surprise, he used his other hand to catch her flying fist. "I told you it wasn't the time to get violent, little one."  
Aggravated at him, she tried to pull both of her hands back but with no avail; he was too strong for her.

Quickly, she tried to kick him in between his legs, but his leg swung out and wound it's way around hers, making her loose her balance and fall onto the cobblestone floor.  
She made a very un-ladylike noise that her etiquette teacher surely would have given her a stern talking to for, but right now her mind was on the man laying on top of her.

He was crushing her, and she knew she had little chance of using her strength to her advantage, so she used the next best thing, her feminine ways.  
She thought about how her father looked when he came home from his last mission, bruised and beaten and started to cry.

Her assailant was taken back, that much was evident. His grip loosened the slightest of bits, and she got her hands free of his. Still playing up her act, she started to flail against him and hit his chest again and again, yelling at him to get off of her.  
"Don't hurt me!" she wailed.  
"I'm not going to hurt you!" he yelled back at her, but she just hit him harder.  
"Just-" she was cut off by her own hiccup. "Let me go! I promise I won't say anything-" this time it wasn't a hiccup that cut her off, it was him.  
"I promise, I'm going to hurt you, little one." His gentle tone caught her off guard and for a minute her hits faltered.  
She hiccupped, and replied. "Wha- what?" the tears streaming from the corner of her eyes and hitting the ground beneath her seemed to start slowing down and her hitting had stopped altogether.  
"I'm not going to hurt you." He repeated, this time whispering it.  
"Then, what do you want?"  
"I was just trying to find the Headmistresses office, little one. I mean no harm to you."  
At the mention of her mother, she tensed up, her muscles recoiling and she was ready to strike. "What business do you have with the Headmistress?" she asked, her tone now hard and full with poison.  
"Do you go here?" he asked cautiously.  
"Yes." She curtly replied.  
"I just graduated from the Burberry School for Boys, little one. I need to see the Headmistress to talk to her about a position here."  
She was still tense, very aware that he could be lying.  
"What's her name?" she asked, knowing full well her mother never gave out her name to anyone other than her colleges and people who were in the running for hire.  
"Cameron Morgan-Goode."  
She nodded, still knowing full well that he couldn't see her. "Then let me up and I'll take you to her."  
He paused, hesitant, then slowly started getting up. When he was standing upright he reached down.

She grasped his hand and he hauled her up. Quickly, she dusted herself off and stared walking in the direction he was going in the first place, leaving him to get the idea and follow.  
"You know, you're not supposed to be in the passageways." She began. "They're off-limits."  
"Then why did you follow me?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone.  
"Because I can't get into trouble for doing so." She replied.  
"And why's that?"  
"I have the same last name as my mother." Was her answer.  
"I get the feeling you're not going to tell me who she is," he said.  
She paused, and then replied. "If you really want to know, my name is Charlotte Goode."  
"You're the Chameleon and Zackary's daughter?" she could sense the respect as the names left his mouth, and she internally sighed.  
Sure, having world-famous parents wasn't at all bad; it was just when she could tell that people were going to compare her to her mother and father that it wasn't the best.  
"Yes," she replied, her mood souring slightly. "I'm my parent's daughter."  
They were both silent, until he broke the silence again. "I'm Condor's son, if it means anything."  
She stopped in her tracks. Condor? That was the codename for the President of the United States. She turned around slowly, and then a small smile appeared on her face. "You can drop the accent then, Lucas."

He laughed, and she noticed that he did drop the accent. "You don't seem surprised at who I am."  
She shrugged, as she started walking again. "I've met influential people in my time; I've learned not to compare people to their parent's as well." Then she thought of something. "So why are you applying for a position here, then?"  
"Being Candor's son has it advantages; I could provide a lot of help for Gallagher."  
She nodded, and they continued in silence.

She knocked on her mother's office door and seconds later her mother's voice reached her ears.  
"Yes?"  
"It's me, Mom. I, uh, have Condor's son here to see you." She hesitated with saying his first name, since it didn't quite seem right introducing Condor's son as she would a friend.  
"Send him in, sweetheart."  
She opened the door and walked in, making sure Lucas came in behind her before turning to look at her mother.

Her mother was a tall woman, and even sitting down you could see that. Her ballerina like grace as she stood up to greet Lucas was also evident and as she spoke you could tell she had passed her etiquette classes.  
"Hello, Lucas. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."  
He nodded politely in her direction. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Cammie."  
She smiled at him, and then her gaze landed on Charlotte. "Char, dear, your father wanted you to call him; he said it was important."  
At the mention of her father, Charlotte's grin appeared.  
"Okay, I'll go do that right now. Goodbye, sir, Mom." She nodded in both of their directions and practically ran down the hallway to her shared room.

She opened the door to her room and skipped in, moving to the side of her room that had her bed in it. She sat on the edge of her bed and grabbed the stationary phone on her white beside table.  
Dialing her father's number, she couldn't' help when her thoughts gravitated towards Lucas. He had made quite the impression on her. He was skilled, she knew that, and not to mention good looking. When they had better lighting she had seen that.

He had green eyes, which was rare. Only twenty percent of the world's population had green eyes, and it was the first time she'd seen dark green eyes. They were like emeralds, almost.

Her father's voice is what made her thoughts about Lucas stop and she focused on him.  
"Char, is that you?" she could hear the whir of an engine in the background, and she thought it sounded like a plane engine for a moment, then realized that with the faint "click, clack" mixed in that he was on a train.  
"Yeah, it's me Dad. How are you?"  
He laughed. "I'm good, ladybug. What are you up to?"  
As she talked to her father about Lucas and he laughed at how she used what she described as "the skills of the female" on him, her thoughts started drifting to Joel yet again.

Years ago, the Gallagher Academy was called the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women, but after her own father, Zackary Goode, had been admitted into the academy they had to change it and now there were a couple boys at the academy. There weren't many though; roughly five percent of Gallagher's student body were boys, the other ninety-five percent were females.

Joel Winters was one of the five percent. And he had an influential family background, some of the not so good kind as well. His grandfather had actually tried to kill her mother, but his father was as innocent as could be. His mother was Macy Winters, the daughter of the Vice-President, James McHenry, and one of her mother's close friends, which is why she's always been know as Aunt Macy to Charlotte. That was another reason why the conversation she'd had with him about an hour ago had irked her.

"I'm coming home tomorrow." Her father said.  
"Really, Dad?" Charlotte squealed. "That's awesome! Now we can spy on Mom together!"  
He laughed again. "That we can, ladybug. But now it's time for bed, and don't argue with me."  
His last comment made her pause with her mouth wide open, getting ready to, in fact, argue with him.  
She nodded, and then felt stupid when she realized she was nodding at the wall in front of her. "Okay, dad. I will. Love you!"  
"Love you too, ladybug. Goodnight."  
"'Night, Dad."

She put the phone back on the receiver and sighed, glancing around the room.  
_That's what's missing_, she thought, thinking about her best friends. Beth and Eliza weren't in the room, but she finally noticed the noise coming from the bathroom as the shower and immediately recognized the voice singing an off-tune performance of Usher as Eliza.  
_So Beth must still be in the library_, she thought, getting off the bed and making her way to the door, intent on finding her best friend and bringing her out of Studyland.

As she rounded the corner from the Fiction department and came to the old table sitting in the corner she could see Beth huddled in an old chair, hunched over her copy of Uncle Joe's textbook.  
"What are you up to?" Charlotte asked as she came to a stop behind the chair.  
Beth jumped up and spun around. "Char! I didn't see you there!"  
She laughed. "Of course you didn't, Beth. You were studying."  
Beth blushed at that and turned her head back to bury it in the textbook again. "Did you know that-"  
Charlotte quickly cut her off, not entirely interested in investing her time in another one of Beth's lectures on what they were learning about tomorrow in class. "Beth, it's late; we have to go to bed, that's why I came down here."  
Beth looked startled and turned to look at her watch, and then jumped up in a panic. "Why didn't you tell me sooner, Char? We have to be in bed in fifteen minutes, and I bet Liza stole all the hot water already!"  
Charlotte shrugged. "I was busy." Beth shot her a curious look and she added. "I'll tell you when we get back to the room."

As she accounted in detail her experience with Lucas, Eliza and Beth were wide eyed. Of course they would be; she had tried to fight off Condor's son, after all.  
"Really?" Eliza said after she'd finished.  
Charlotte simply nodded, tired of talking.  
"Well, I for one still like Joel better." Beth stated.  
Charlotte froze. She had forgotten about her conversation with Joel, and right now she really didn't want to say anything to make her friends mad.  
"What?" Beth asked, noticing Charlotte's stiff posture. "What's wrong?"  
Charlotte hesitated, and then sighed. She couldn't keep anything from her friends.  
"I could tell you, but you wouldn't like it."


End file.
